


Social Activism in the Weyr

by brainofck



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-30
Updated: 2011-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-19 22:12:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brainofck/pseuds/brainofck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the 2011 J/D Ficathon Prompt-a-thon:  AU Crossover with McCaffrey's Pern. First mating flight ever between two bronzes or between a bronze and a green/brown/whatever-works-for-Daniel, Jack being the bronze rider, Daniel the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Social Activism in the Weyr

**Author's Note:**

> Please note I have not actually read McCaffery since I adored it as a teenager - 25 years ago? I am SO OLD. Thanks to seleneheart for looking it over for compliance with canon.

D'nel maintained a punishing pace as he climbed the inclined corridors and short flights of stairs that led from the Lower Caverns toward the small caves that made up the dragonriders' personal quarters. He gestured broadly with his breakfast meat pie in his right hand, even as he carefully and instinctively protected the klah he held in his left.

D'nel in full rant was a force of nature. Jack never failed to appreciate the show.

 _If Shaureth had been hatched a queen, D'nel would be Weyerwoman,_ Jack's bronze, Serath, opined. Jack laughed out loud at this comment. Apparently Samantha did, too.

 _Why are you both laughing at me, when you both agree?_ Serath asked. He was feeling cranky and restless this morning, Jack thought. And of course, dragons didn't have a lot of sense of humor, in the best of times, even his wonderful Serath.

"Our entire social system is based on exploitation and coercion, and sometimes even brute force. You are all know how the drudges live," D'nel went on.

"The drudges are well looked after," M'lad protested.

Jack was always amused by D'nel's entourage, and seeing which of his many admirers just sat in awe of (and not occasional befuddlement at) D'nel's personality and ideas and which of them attempted to engage the green rider on his own terms.

"Certianly," D'nel agreed, " _if_ they do brutally heavy and filthy work from the time they rise two hours before dawn until they fall into their sleeping furs eighteen hours later, and meet any dragonrider's every whim from a cup of klah and a meat pie," another broad gesture with his breakfast, "to a quick fuck. Do any of them get even the basic education that a Holder's child would receive? Do any of them get any opportunity to look outside the kitchens at the larger world?"

"Even the meanest drudge in the weyr lives better than my father, and he was a cotholder," M'lad said stubbornly. "There's no life unless you work for it. It's not 'exploitation,' D'nel, it's how we get food on the table."

"Well, that's true," D'nel agreed. "The labor of peasants and cotholds _is_ the basis of our economy, and trust me, one day there will be an environmental impact that reduces the labor pool and our social system will be turned upside down."

"Dragonriders are more important than farmers," piped up T'nar.

"Dragonriders are critical, obviously," D'nel said, finally taking a bite of his meat pie instead of just waving it around to emphasize his oratorical points. They had arrived outside D'nel's quarters, where there was a little terrace garden with benches. Jack noticed that, although he had not been fully aware of it, the group following D'nel through the weyr had grown fairly large, even for D'nel, who always had a few blue and brown riders in his wake. All the benches were filled with Dragonmen, their eyes glued to D'nel, waiting for what he would say next.

Jack realized what must be happening. Now it was Serath's turn to laugh at him.

 _Indeed! Shaureth has never glowed more beautifully. She has not eaten in three days. Today is the day she will fly._

Trust D'nel to just talk more and faster as his dragon prepared for her first mating flight.

"As a thought experiment, imagine what would happen if the Hold lost seventy-five percent of its population," D'nel lectured.

"We'd all be working in the fields, for one thing," M'lad, the cotholder's lad, ventured immediately.

"Yes, but even so, we would still have to do our job as riders. We could never provide enough extra labor to bring in a big enough harvest to support the weyr and the Hold, even considering that the remaining population of the Hold would be much smaller and need less."

"We would need people from other holds," Jack volunteered. D'nel's eyes fell on him with an intensity that sent blood rushing straight to Jack's crotch.

"That's been done before," T'nar said dismissively. "Offer people a little land and the whole problem resolves itself."

"Right!" D'nel agreed. "Now imagine what happens if _every_ hold loses seventy-five percent of its population." He waited a heartbeat. "No more drudges," he began, ticking off his fingers, "they all leave the kitchens for the fields. "Women become important workers. Well, they've always been vital workers, but the value of their labor must be explicitly acknowledged to exploit it in the new system. And what do you offer the cotholders then, to work for you instead of the other holder?"

"Then it seems to me that if the dragonriders, by their actions, allow the population to grow and flourish, and labor is plentiful, then we deserve our spot at the top of the pyramid," T'nar stated with an air of authority that drew a glare from M'lad, and a snort of dismissal from D'nel.

 _Has he even noticed?_ Jack mused to Serath.

 _Of course he has,_ Shaureth replied tartly. Then Jack felt a second surge in his dick as Shaureth leapt from the ledge where she had been perched in the sun to swoop down over the feeding grounds. Jack knew when she fell on the weyr beast, ripping into its throat.

 _She drinks only blood,_ Serath growled approvingly. _D'nel instructs her wisely. It will be a long flight._

D'nel was instructing his dragon, while still droning on about the political and social impacts of population losses?! And trust D'nel to forget he was a green rider and that his dragon had no need to blood her kill. She wasn't a queen, fercryinoutloud.

If Jack hadn't felt it himself when Shaureth pushed off into the sky, he would have known what was happening from the response of the Dragonmen on the benches. They surrounded D'nel, closing in on him. They all wanted him.

Jack moved closer to D'nel, standing just behind his left shoulder. None of the other riders were the slightest bit dissuaded - proof perfect that this was a mating flight. Jack usually commanded more respect.

 _Go get her,_ Jack thought encouragingly to Serath.

Serath was already soaring. Despite the fact that he was one of the largest bronzes in the weyr, he had not joined a mating flight with a queen or another green in almost a year – not since the dragon had comprehended that Jack had fallen head over heels for a 20-year-old Weyrling, fresh from walking the tables at Harper Hall, of all things. Maybe 'the dragon decides and the rider complies,' but Jack could not persuade Serath to fly.

 _Shaureth will fly soon enough,_ the dragon assured him serenely.

Of course, in flying a green, being a great bronze could be a disadvantage. Shaureth herself might be one of the largest greens ever hatched, she would still be too quick and maneuverable for Serath to catch with certainty. The odds were much better for a swiftly twisting blue.

 _She is a queen at heart. After blooding her kill, she will fly like a queen,_ Serath said confidently.

Serath was right. Shaureth flew with a burst of power that the blues chasing her could not hope to match. They dropped off quickly. The interested browns, of which there were many, had less difficulty matching her pace, but Serath would catch her first, now, Jack was certain.

She flew high and fast, yes, like a queen. Serath was in awe of her. The blues and browns were far behind. She taunted him, snaking her head back to keep her swirling eyes on him, and she ordered him, _Catch me,_ and Serath did not need to be commanded, but he did his best to obey her, his beautiful queen. When he did capture her the flight was long and high and beautiful. The dragons of the weyr universally approved, and Jack perceived through their comments that the riders approved the human pairing as well.

When Jack woke he was plastered to D'nel, buried deep beneath sleeping furs in D'nel's small weyr.

"Why does Shaureth talk to you?" D'nel asked. His voice had a warm sleepy burr that Jack wanted to hear regularly and often. "Why does everyone call you Jack?"

Always thinking, always questioning, even when he was more than half asleep.

"A lot of dragons talk to me," Jack confided to D'nel, a fact that he had never mentioned to anyone, and that only Samantha even suspected. Merith liked Jack very much, and she would never tell her rider about Jack's unusual ability if Jack didn't want her to. "And people call me Jack because J'nathn is so damned un-pronounceable."

Daniel laughed and shifted. Not away, as Jack had feared he would, but rather moving around to face him. He smiled, but it was a little sad. He sighed.

"I wonder if people would call me Daniel, if I asked them to," D'nel mused.

"I will," Jack declared softly. Daniel smiled at him.

"Of course, you would," Daniel said. He drew his hand up Jack's arm to let his fingers play through Jack's hair. "Shaureth says Serath calls her his queen."

"Who knew dragons were romantics at heart?" Jack replied.

They lay together quietly awhile in the cocoon of Daniel's bed, enjoying their dragons' mellow contentment.

"If it weren't a system based on coercion, you wouldn't be here," Jack said thoughtfully, feeling melancholy in his own turn. "You would already be a master, teaching the history of Pern to apprentices in the Harper Hall," Jack observed.

"I guess I should be glad that by luck the forces of coercion made me a dragonrider and not a drudge, but I always expected by now I would have students, a beautiful wife, a child on the way," Daniel said wistfully.

"Lord Holders for grandfathers can be useful – for soft landings," Jack said.

"Yes, when they want to get rid of your annoying social activism, they pack you off to the softest prison. Though I believe he was quite put out when I 'only' managed to impress a green. Hardly suitable for our bloodline."

"Shaureth is a dragon as unique as her rider," Jack said. Daniel gave him a tiny, dazzling smile. "You must really have been a pain in the ass, if the Masterharper let you be sent away with a Search," Jack chuckled.

"Imagine what my dear grandfather had to do to persuade the Weyrleader to take me on," Daniel said resignedly. "I must be the only dragonrider to ever come with a dowry."

"Oh, you can't possibly be the first," Jack disagreed mildly. He caught Daniel's hand, where it was still moving restlessly in his hair, and kissed Daniel's palm. "You do understand that dragonriders can have that, too – you know – a family. The weyr understands that mating flights are about the dragons, not the riders. 'The dragon decides, the rider complies,'" Jack intoned. Looking into Daniel's blue eyes, Jack could see instantly that the old adage meant as much to Daniel as it had to Serath.

"Shaureth is my family," Daniel said firmly.

"But she doesn't have to be your _only_ family," Jack said.

"No, she doesn't," Daniel said, and the warmth in his eyes answered the question that Jack had been holding in his heart. His gentle, sweet kiss was welcome, but unnecessary confirmation.


End file.
